


i've been cold since you left

by youranimalside



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4841822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youranimalside/pseuds/youranimalside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Here’s what we’re going to do. We are going to go to Universal Studios; we are going to get sorted. If I am not a Gryffindor, I will fight the Sorting Hat. Then we will get wands, and be nerdy little shits, and then we are going to get smashed, watch a movie of your choice, Mean Girls will be vetoed, and tomorrow, we are going to get on a plane back to Los Angeles because you are better than this. Screw Luke, okay?”</em>
</p>
<p>Or Michael's heartbroken and Calum's trying to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've been cold since you left

**Author's Note:**

> uh so this is my first fic since i wrote suite life of zack and cody fic at age 11 so please don't drag me too hard for it.
> 
> inspired by recent events. 
> 
> title comes from halsey's haunting.

Calum has been dealing with Michael’s weirdly internalized coping mechanisms for years now, and he still flounders when dealing with situations like this.

 

That had always been the thing about Michael, Calum thought. His emotions always ran too extreme. He was raging furious, hopelessly sad, or in the the worst times Michael seemed to feel nothing at all, wandering around lethargically, apathy clinging to his every move. Those were the moments that Calum hated the most.

 

He felt bad for being relieved that Michael hadn’t reached that stage yet, if the miserable set of his face was anything to go by.

 

“Mike,” he murmured gently, walking over to the armchair that Michael was sprawled in.

 

“ _Don’t_ call me that,” was all he got in reply, and the blond refused to meet Calum’s eyes.

 

“Michael,” he tried again. “You need to take a shower, and we need to go back to LA.”

 

Michael looked up, and his eyes were bright with something – _desperation_ maybe. “Cal – can we just – can we just stay here for a few more days? We can – w-we can go paintballing again or – _or Universal Studios_! Let’s do that.”

 

“Michael,” he repeated. “We need to go home.” _To the rest of our band_ , he didn’t say. They didn’t have a real reason to be in Florida, just the two of them, and the longer they stayed, the stranger it looked.

 

“ _The Wizarding World of Harry Potter_ , and then home?” Michael pleaded, and Calum couldn’t bear to see any more tears, so he nodded with a sigh, his head already throbbing at the idea of driving to another city.

 

“I’m going to shower, can you get the tickets and figure out how long it’ll take us to drive to Orlando?”

 

Michael nodded, pulling out his phone without another word as Calum disappeared into the bathroom.

 

The room suddenly felt colder without his best friend in it.

 

He had meant to open Safari, get the tickets like Calum had asked but his thumb hovered over the twitter icon, it felt like the bird was mocking him and so he _had_ to press it.

 

His feed refreshed itself, and Michael swallowed, staring at the screen hollowly. He hadn’t seen these pictures. They were new.

 

_Luke looked good_ , that was the first thought. Then again, Luke always looked good.

 

She did too, under the hair she was hiding herself behind, Michael thought. She was conventionally attractive, in a way that Michael had never been.

 

Michael scrolled down, hoping to escape the photos, but they were all over his feed, burning themselves into his brain. He swallowed thickly, tightening his grip around his phone, his breathing going stupidly shaky.

 

“Did you get them?”

 

Michael jumped, looking up so fast he felt a twinge in his neck, and he could feel the guilty burn in his cheeks as he met Calum’s eyes.

 

Calum sighed, coming closer, and gently pushing Michael so he could squish into the armchair next to him, carefully taking the phone out of Michael’s hands despite his weak protests, and tossing it behind him onto one of the beds.

 

“Stop torturing yourself,” he reprimanded, softly. “You’re making it harder.”

 

Michael let out a breath, and pressed his face against Calum’s shoulder, and Calum nearly flinched when he felt the tears on his shirt, Michael’s shoulders shaking as he tried to muffle his sobs.

 

“Mikey… hey, c’mon,” Calum said helplessly, drawing him in closer and wrapping his arms around him.

 

“Why doesn’t he love me anymore, Cal?” Michael said, pathetically, the words twisting together like something poisonous in his throat.

 

Calum had never wanted to hurt Luke like he wanted to in that moment, but Luke had hurt his best friend, and Calum had always known he would go to war for Michael if he ever needed to.

 

He didn’t have an answer though, so he settled on stroking Michael’s hair.

 

When Michael’s sobs had subsided to a more reasonable sniffle, Calum spoke softly.

 

“Here’s what we’re going to do. We are going to go to Universal Studios; we are going to get sorted. If I am not a Gryffindor, I will fight the Sorting Hat. Then we will get wands, and be nerdy little shits, and then we are going to get smashed, watch a movie of your choice, Mean Girls will be vetoed, and tomorrow, we are going to get on a plane back to Los Angeles because you are _better_ than this. Screw Luke, okay?”[  
](filthyjanuary.tumblr.com)

 

Michael nodded. It was shaky, but it was a start

 

* * *

 

 

Their day had gone reasonably well. Michael had pulled himself together by the time they got to Universal, and had even stopped for some fan photos, plastering a smile onto his face.

 

Calum had gotten sorted into Gryffindor, so there had been no need for him to fight the Sorting Hat, luckily, and Michael had smiled, small but genuine when he had gotten sorted, elbowing Calum and telling him to eat his Slytherin ass.

 

It was better than Calum had expected, and things felt almost normal as they got their wands, drank Butterbeer, and spent the day wandering through the Wizarding World.

 

That was until they reached the gift shop. Calum turned his back for a second to look at a Gryffindor scarf, and when he turned back to Michael, he was stroking a Ravenclaw beanie mournfully.

 

“Michael, put it back,” he said, immediately, rubbing at his forehead.

 

“It’s – L-Luke would like it,” Michael mumbled, not meeting Calum’s eyes.

 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what Luke would like right now. I’ll get him and Ash pens and we can call it a day,” Calum said.

 

Michael shook his head. “I want to get it for him. A-and you can get the Hufflepuff one for Ashton, and it won’t be weird. It’ll be a band thing.”

 

“You’re full of shit,” Calum sighed, but he obediently grabbed a Hufflepuff beanie, and went over to the register to pay, as Michael followed, clutching the blue hat to his chest.

 

* * *

 

Calum was exhausted by the time they got back to their hotel in Miami. Michael had offered to take the wheel, but Calum didn’t trust him to drive in his state. He’d been okay for his test, too focused on pleasing the instructor to lose himself in his thoughts, but on an open road, Calum knew that the other boy’s mind had a tendency to wander.

 

He’d promised Michael alcohol though, so he’d pulled out a bottle of Jack’s and handed Michael the remote, settling down onto one of the beds and waiting for Michael to join him.

 

Michael decided on watching the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Calum cringed because that wasn’t a good sign.

 

“You sure you don’t want to watch something a little less… death?” He ventured.

 

Michael didn’t reply, starting the movie and settling against Calum’s side instead, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and taking a long sip.

 

It didn’t take long for the alcohol to set in, and Calum tried to pry the bottle away from Michael, but fuck – he was stronger than he looked.

 

“Cal- _lum_ , why – why did he lie to me?”

 

Calum sighed, still trying to get Michael to let go of the whiskey. “I don’t know, Mikey.”

 

“He said – he _promised_ that he wouldn’t get tired of me – that nothing would change… I don’t know what I did _w-wrong.”_

 

And oh, damn, his voice was getting wobbly again.

 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Michael. He’s an idiot. Can you – can I please have the whiskey, I think you’ve had enough,” Calum said, trying to lift Michael’s fingers up to take the bottle.

 

Michael relinquished it, staring at the TV blankly as another girl screamed on screen.

 

“I just _miss_ him so much and I thought – I believed him. I believed him when he said he wouldn’t leave and he did it _anyways_ , and I’m just all black inside.”

 

Calum took a long swig of the bottle, and then set it down, sitting up and pulling Michael up with him. “That’s enough. Time for bed, okay? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

 

He guided Michael into one bed, pulling off his clothes, and tugging the covers over his friend, and then turned off the movie.

 

He crawled into bed, and turned the lamp off, and prayed that things would actually get better.

 

“Night Cal,” he heard, quietly from the other side of the room.

 

“Goodnight, Mikey.”

 

* * *

 

To his surprise, when Calum woke up in the morning, Michael was already up, and – “Did you shower?” Calum asked, confused.

 

Michael nodded, looking more collected than he had in days. “Yeah. Helped with the hangover, and I could think a bit.”

“You look… better…” Calum said.

 

“I don’t want him to see me moping. You’re right, I’m better than that.”

 

It was progress in some ways, but the emotionless way Michael said it made Calum’s heart pick up a bit in worry. He pushed it aside for the time being.

 

“Alright. You all packed? We gotta get to the airport.”

 

Michael nodded. “I packed most of yours too. I woke up pretty early.”

 

Calum pushed his hair out of his face, cataloguing that fact away.

 

“’Kay, I’ll get dressed and we can go.”

 

* * *

 

Michael spent the flight preparing himself to see Luke again. Calum was dozing on his shoulder, and Michael’s muscle was developing a cramp from not moving it, but he didn’t have the heart to shift away. Calum had dealt with too much of his shit these past few days.

 

He’d hardened himself that morning. He was still breaking inside but – banding came first: before Luke, before his heart, before anything and everything. He had to appear functional on the surface, even if he didn’t feel that way.

 

If Luke were happy with – with _her_ – then he wouldn’t fight it. Michael had only ever wanted Luke and his stupid traitorous heart to be happy.

 

And hey – this was a songwriter’s dream. There was a reason Taylor Swift and Sam Smith and Adele were all so successful.

 

Michael had survived before Luke stole his heart, he would survive after Luke tossed it away like trash.

 

The pilot announcing their final approach to LAX shook Michael out of his thoughts, and he let out a long breath, gently shaking Calum awake, and then grabbing his bags as they left the plane.

 

The ride to their LA house was too short for Michael’s liking, and before he knew it, they were standing in front of the door.

 

“Ready?” Calum asked, gauging his reaction.

 

“Nah but let’s do it anyways,” he said, mentally preparing himself for whatever he’d have to see, and then pushed the door open.

 

He had his band and his best friend, he’d be fine eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! please leave a comment and let me know what you thought and hit me up on [tumblr](http://www.filthyjanuary.tumblr.com).


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